


Surprises

by iheardavoice



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Marauders' Era, Pre-Slash, Unrequited Love, common room shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iheardavoice/pseuds/iheardavoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's coming up to Sirius's eighteenth birthday - the last he'll have at Hogwarts - and Remus wants to get him something special. But what do you get the disowned heir of a noble Wizarding house who already has everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter, all concepts and works belong to JK Rowling and affiliates. No money is being made from the writing or publication of this fanfiction.

It’s coming up to Sirius’s eighteenth birthday and Remus has been agonising over what you get the disowned heir of a noble house who already has everything.  He has always been a terrible present-giver. Usually, he ends up just throwing a nice bar of chocolate at the recipient and apologising profusely for being so utterly crap at picking presents. But this is Sirius’s eighteenth birthday, the last birthday he’ll have in Hogwarts before The Real World kicks in, and Remus more than anyone wants it to be perfect. He’s quite aware than he’s too sentimental for his own good.

“So we’ve got the Butterbeer hidden in the passageway to Honeydukes, and Peter, you’re going to get the wine, yes?” James asks, writing something down on A List – clearly either Lily or being Head Boy’s having a worrying impact on James’s maturity. Then again, birthdays are Very Important Things for the Marauders, and James plans birthday parties the same way Remus plans essays and revision timetables – carefully, and with great detail. And colour coding.

“As Head Boy, you of all people really shouldn’t be encouraging underage drinking,” Remus remarks mildly, turning a page in his book. James pauses for a second in thought then clicks his fingers.

“Special dispensation,” he concludes.

“Ah,” Remus answers, nodding sagely. “Handy to have the Head eating out of the palm of your hand, isn’t it?” James winks, laughs, and runs a hand through his permanently-dishevelled hair. Remus shakes his head and smiles as James consults the piece of parchment again. “What are you two getting him for his birthday, anyway?” Remus asks. James frowns in confusion.

“Well, this. The party is his present from all of us.” Peter nods in agreement.

“Oh, right. I just thought it might be nice if we gave him something else, something that he could keep.”

James frowns even deeper still. “Why, what did you have –“ But his sentence is interrupted by Sirius suddenly appearing in the common room and bounding over towards the sofa where James and Peter are frantically trying to hide away James’s list. Watching the nearly-eighteen year old lolloping in, with all the enthusiasm of a Labrador puppy and half its co-ordination, Remus finds himself wondering, not for the first time, just how much boy is left in Sirius.

“Well," he says with a triumphant air. He looks at the other three expectantly.

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to ask how the date went?” Sirius presses, waggling his eyebrows.

“Can’t have been that good, you’re back here before curfew and you didn’t even have to sneak past Filch,” Remus mutters from behind his book. Sirius leans over and clips him behind the ear. Remus shakes his head and returns to his novel.

“So, how was the date, Padfoot?” James asks, just to humour Sirius.

“Shit,” Sirius beams to the utter confusion of the other boys.

“And this is good,” Peter concludes. “Er, why is it good?”

“Because, my dear Wormy, it means I have utter and absolute proof that my heart can only belong to Gryffindors,” Sirius elucidates, catching the eye of a fourth year and winking lasciviously, sending her flying into a stray bookshelf. “Oh, the Ravenclaws give them a run for their money, sure – but knowledge alone isn’t enough to satisfy me. I need someone who’s bold enough to put their money where their mouth is, who’s not all mouth and trousers, who…”

“Who isn’t afraid to punch you when you’re objectifying her?” Lily Evans is standing right behind them, managing to look simultaneously completely serene and yet murderous as she stares at Sirius, who is perfectly nonchalant. James, on the other hand, is going a beautiful shade of Gryffindor scarlet.

“Exactly, Miss Evans,” Sirius continues without a second’s hesitation. “And might I add how beautiful you are looking toda- ow!” James’s foot has suddenly and inexplicably made contact with Sirius’s shin.

“Mm, thanks a lot,” Lily says unconvinced. “James, Dumbledore wants to see us, check how things are going and that we haven't corrupted the younger students yet. I said I thought you were free now, is that alright? It shouldn’t take too long.” James nods and follows Lily out of the common room.

“I don’t know what nerve he has taking the form of a stag, when by all accounts he should be a bloody lapdog,” Sirius says, collapsing into the space James has left on the sofa. Remus squeezes his eyes shut, pinches the bridge of his nose, and exhales slowly.

“For the last time, you don’t choose your form –“

“Your form chooses you,” Peter and Sirius chorus. “We know, mate, I just say it because it winds you up. It’s not as fun now, it’s almost _too_ easy,” Sirius laughs, tousling Remus’s hair affectionately. Remus brushes it back into place and opens his book again. Sirius reclines on the sofa with his hands behind his head, plonking his feet on top of the coffee table. “So, what are you gentlemen planning for my birthday?” Peter squeaks and goes purple with the exertion of trying to come up with a plausible lie.

Remus replies smoothly, “Oh, was that soon? I wouldn’t have guessed, you never said.” Sirius’s eyebrows appear to be trying to join his hair.

“Moony, don’t tell me you’d forgotten that the day of my birth, the day that the world was blessed by such a stunning, handsome –“

“Big headed, egotistical…”

“Honourable and courageous young man,” Sirius corrects, scowling at Lupin, “because then my heart truly would break.”

“I couldn’t forget your birthday, Padfoot,” Remus says consolingly, patting Sirius on the knee. Sirius smiles. “You’ve been going on about it for the past fortnight.” Sirius lazily hits Remus and yawns widely.

“Well, I’m going to go to bed so that you can plan my Amazingly Fantastic Birthday Surprise properly. See you in the morning. Goodnight, chaps.” He salutes and swings his legs around then jumps over the back of the sofa. Remus wonders idly if Sirius has ever done things the easy way. Probably not.

For the next hour or so, Peter and Remus sit in silence, Remus reading his book, Peter working frantically on his already overdue Charms essay on the benefits and drawbacks of Cheering Charms on people who have suffered trauma. If it were Sirius and not Peter, Remus thinks, he would have read the same sentence sixteen times while trying to stop his best friend and part-time pet dog from placing Sticking Charms to various objects in the room and cackling as unsuspecting first years tried to pick them up. Just when Remus is thinking about heading to bed, James and Lily walk back in to the common room from their meeting with Dumbledore.

“How’d it go?” Remus asks, making a mental note of which page he’d reached, and closes his book.

“Fine,” James replies, dragging an armchair from the fireplace to their circle so that Lily can sit with them. She takes the seat and smiles at James by way of thanks. James, to Remus’s immense surprise, manages to not go bright purple. “But the man doesn’t half go on, and whether he doesn’t take hints or just decides he’s going to ignore them we’re still trying to work out. I lost count of how many times I checked my watch and I think Lily cracked her jaw pretending to yawn. Got plenty of sweets though – he’s definitely on a strawberry bonbon kick at the moment.” James takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “He just wanted to check that we can still stand each other and that we’re not abusing our position of power.”

“I think it helps when the Head Girl is in on the plan for an illicit birthday party. Means she can pretend she has absolutely no idea what the younger students are getting all worked up about and can take the Head Boy’s side and feign ignorance when the Headmaster asks us precisely why the second year Hufflepuffs are excited about Scaramouch Rack’s party.” She turns to Remus. “You wouldn’t happen to know what that’s about, would you, Remus?”

“I haven’t the foggiest,” Remus says calmly. “But can I make a suggestion?” he continues, knowing it will fall on deaf ears. “Can we not get quite as much alcohol this time? Only we don’t want a repeat of the end of last term’s party, do we?” he asks James very pointedly. James goes quite pink.

“We don’t talk about that,” he says, giving Remus A Look.

Lily looks between Remus and James, bemused. “Yes we do. Please enlighten me.”

“James got so rat-arsed at the party last year that he was... indisposed, let’s say -”

“It was coming out of both ends!”

“Yes, thanks Peter, that’s precisely the image the Head Girl wants of the Head Boy…” James mutters.

 “Anyway, so he was sat on the toilet with a bucket on his lap and making these really rather unpleasant groaning noises. Well, presumably McGonagall could hear something from her room, and, full of compassion for her student who was so clearly suffering from food poisoning, she came barging in and used Alohamora on the locked cubicle door. Obviously James was leaning on the door handle because when the door came flying open, he fell off the toilet and nearly into the bowl of sick; looked up, saw McGonagall standing there in shock, said very weakly, ‘oh, hello Professor’ then vomited quite spectacularly on his trousers.”

“Oh god, maybe I could just kill myself…”

Lily stares. “How on earth were you made Head Boy?”

“It’s a question I ask myself daily,” James says, wishing he was anywhere but here at this moment. “And now I need to go drown myself in said toilet, so if you’ll excuse me.” Peter laughs, gives Lily and Remus a jaunty wave and follows James upstairs to the boy’s dormitory. Lily sighs heavily and turns to face the last remaining Marauder.

“Tell me honestly Remus, do you think James will get really very drunk at this party you’re definitely not planning?”

“Do you really want me to be honest?” Remus asks her. Lily hesitates.

“Yes. No. Make it quick.”

“I think that this is his last chance to celebrate Sirius’s birthday in Hogwarts and he will act as such.” Lily sighs.

“And I was starting to warm to him, too.” Remus raises his eyebrow slightly and she blushes. “Shut up.”Remus smiles innocently at her, holding his hands up in defence, which only serves to make her blush even more furiously.

He hesitates for a moment. “Just… give the bloke a chance, will you? I know he can be an enormous prat, but his heart’s in the right place, and he’s been a lot better this year.”

“I have yet to be tackled by any singing flowers, and Merlin knows he’s had the chance,” Lily agrees, then sighs as if thinking well of James Potter goes against her better instincts. “I know he’s a good person, I just can’t forget how much of a vile toerag he can be, too.”

“Yes, I believe you made your feelings pretty clear on the matter,” Remus says, delicately. “But, Lily, there are – there are things that he’s done that honestly would change your mind about him.” She raises an eyebrow. “No, really. He can be a total lunatic and some of his pranks are downright dangerous, but he would do anything for the people he cares about. When Sirius ran away from home, James's family took him in with absolutely no questions - and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He didn’t make Sirius talk about why he’d left, but he left it open so that if he did want to say, he could. When he found out about me being – what I am, he made it pretty clear that he didn’t think any less of me and he certainly wouldn’t stop being friends with me which, for a terrified twelve year old not used to being liked, particularly by the popular people, meant the world. And he’s helped me during my ‘time of the month’ like you wouldn’t believe.” Remus can see that Lily’s trying to marry up the James Potter, Vile Desperate Scumbag Of The Earth she thought she knew with the Prongs Remus is telling her about. “He’s still a twat sometimes though,” Remus adds, just to ensure Lily doesn’t think he’s been put up to this by James himself. Lily laughs.

“Oh, I know that,” she says smiling. There’s a long pause. “I have seen the side you’re talking about before though,” she continues. “He accidentally walked in on me crying in the common room when it was quiet last week because of a letter I’d been sent by my sister. I thought he’d make a joke of it but he just sat there with a seemingly endless supply of Honeydukes chocolate and said that if I didn’t want to talk at all that was fine, if I wanted to talk about it that was fine, and if I wanted to talk about anything other than it, that was fine too – but he didn’t want to leave me on my own when I was upset unless I actually hexed him out of the room. I think -” she hesitates. “I think he’s wising up.”

“We are in our final year,” Remus says, reasonably. “I’ve always been the old man and Sirius the child, James had to pick one of us to follow.”

“I’m glad he seems to have chosen you,” she says, smiling. “You always were one of my favourites.”

“Don’t let James hear you saying that,” he warns her, only half-joking. “I’d best go to bed, Lily.”

“Me too,” she says, looking at her watch. “And I will. Think about giving James a chance, I mean. If you’re still sticking with him he can’t be all that bad,” she adds, eyes twinkling. “Night.” She hugs him and heads up to the girl’s dormitory.

Remus remains in his seat, somewhat flummoxed. Has he just helped James in his endless quest to Woo Lily Evans? And, what’s more – without actually meaning to?

“Bugger,” he says, surprised.


	2. Chapter 2

Several days later, Sirius, Peter and Remus are quite peacefully sitting in the common room. Remus is reading another book, Peter is attempting to write another overdue essay and Sirius is drafting a letter to send to his parents asking them to “kindly fuck off” and is struggling to find a way of expressing this without saying it outright. Suddenly, James comes bursting in through the portrait hole and marches over to where the other three are sitting.

“Right. Which one of you spoke to Lily?”

Peter actually cowers. Sirius looks up, quill in his mouth and Remus hesitantly looks up from his book. “Erm, me?” He phrases it as a question and mentally berates himself for doing so. “Is there a problem?” Remus asks, utterly lost.

“Um.” James runs his hand through his hair in that maddening way that makes him look like he’s got nits. “Well, um, thanks.” The quill drops from Sirius’s mouth and Remus snaps his book shut.

“What?”

“Thanks.” James takes the empty armchair next to Sirius and looks over his shoulder. “ _Dear Mum and Dad, cheers, now kindly fuck off_. Don’t you think you should be a little -”

“Prongs, you berk, what in the name of arse is going on?” Sirius hits him over the head with his rolled-up parchment.

“Oh, well, Lily and I were just leaving Dumbledore’s office after our meeting and I said something that wasn’t actually a joke and she laughed and not in a nasty _oh-god-Potter’s-so-pathetic_ way, in a genuine way -” The other three are stunned and James nods, eyes wide. “I know. Anyway then she said ‘Oh, I’d best go, I’ve got to return this book to the library’ and I just sort of asked her if she fancied coming to Hogsmede with me, and she said ‘Well we always go together don’t we, as Head Boy and Girl’ but she looked different when she said it, not like the other times I’ve asked -”

“Of which there are many…” Sirius adds _sotto voce_ which earns a dig in the ribs from Remus.

“So I said, ‘No, I meant _with_ me with me’ and she, well… She said yes.” Remus, Sirius and Peter stare incredulously at James, who mirrors their expression. “I know,” he repeats.  He looks helplessly at Remus. “Well?” Remus looks incredulously back at him.

“Well _what_?”

“Well what in the name of Merlin’s left bollock did you say to her?” Remus shrugs.

“The truth. I told her what you’re really like when you’re not acting like a total prat to impress her - so if you want her to like you, you’d best be yourself.” James stares at him, agog.

“What an appalling piece of advice!”

“It obviously worked well enough to win her over when she was upset last week,” Remus adds.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Moony, I wasn’t even _trying_ to be myself then, she was upset and I wasn’t thinking of –oh.” James’s eyes widen as the penny drops and Remus nods in that infuriating way he has when he’s right, which is always.

“So, wait, Moony managed to get Lily Evans, Ice Princess Extraordinaire, to look at Prongs in a way that didn’t resemble the look usually reserved for shit on your shoe?” Sirius sits back, appropriately stunned. “Fuck me.” The expletive hangs in the air for a moment as the four Marauders consider this bizarre turn of events, then Sirius leans forward. “But how, Moony? How? How did you manage to convince Lily Evans to see Prongs for anything other than what he is, i.e. a humongous tosser – ow!” Once again James’s foot has of its own accord made contact with Sirius’s shin. He rubs the dirt off of his trouser leg. “Why would she listen to you over me?”

 “Just because I don’t get off with girls doesn’t mean I don’t know how to talk to them,” Remus replies, a little sharper than he’d intended. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised she wouldn’t listen to your words of wisdom.” Sirius has that expression which usually makes Remus give up, but today he’s just annoyed enough that it encourages him to carry on. “You’re good at charming the girls into seeing you but once you’ve got what you want from them, you’re not interested. You keep getting away with it because there’s a queue out the door of girls who are willing to put their reputation on hold if you so much as glance at them – but none of the girls in our year respect you or would listen to anything you say because you showed your hand far too soon and you’ve made a reputation for yourself and – and now you’ve got to lie in it.” He’s pretty certain he’s lost the thread somewhere so compensates by standing up abruptly and heading towards the boys’ dormitory. He turns back to face Sirius, who looks astonished and, Remus is surprised to notice, a little ashamed. “If you want to know why Lily would listen to my advice over yours...” Remus falters as he realises he doesn't really know where he's going with this. Instead, he turns back and heads upstairs to his dormitory, collapses into bed and pulls the curtains around him. He closes his eyes and suddenly the implications of what he’s just done hit him.

“Bugger.”

Several minutes later, he hears the quiet footfalls of one of the boys coming creeping in. “Moony? You asleep?”

“Yes.” Sirius opens the curtains of the four-poster and Remus guiltily sits up. “Sirius, I’m really sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because it was out of order, and it’s almost your birthday and -”

“Don’t apologise, Moony, you were right.” Remus barely has time to let the fact that Sirius Black, He Who Must Always Be Right has just admitted that he was wrong, before Sirius falls back onto Remus’s bed, with a _huff_ of exhaled air. His legs are dangling off the side of Remus’s bed, and his feet don’t quite touch the floor. Remus often forgets that Sirius is actually shorter than him – all his bravado and confidence make up for the few inches he lacks when he stands next to James and Remus. He brushes Sirius’s hair away from where it fell on his face when he lay back. _This isn’t weird_ , he reasons, _because we’re both still in our uniforms_. Sirius rubs at his face.

“What am I going to do, Moony?” he asks. It’s quiet, and Remus knows from six years with Sirius Black that this means he is feeling particularly vulnerable. If he’s quiet, it means the usually extroverted, attention-loving Padfoot has started internalising. Remus also knows that while on the surface James and Sirius are better, closer friends, he is the only one that Sirius will talk to when he’s feeling like this.

“You can’t go back to them because it would just show that you need them,” Remus says, leaning back against his headboard. He often thinks that the reason Sirius always comes to him when he’s feeling like this is because It goes against Sirius’s nature to admit that he’s unhappy, and Remus always knows instinctively what’s upsetting or worrying him without it needing to be said. Sirius’s head is resting against Remus’s legs, and he frowns as he worries away at a frayed cuff of his school jumper.

“What if we looked into living together after we leave school?” He tilts his head so he’s looking, upside down, at Remus. Remus hesitates. “Just us.” Sirius is looking at him in the bizarre way that he sometimes does, grey eyes soft and ever-so-slightly pleading. Remus knows as well as Sirius that this look ensures that he gets his way. Remus puts it down to the centuries of in-breeding and an inherent persuasive ability encoded within the genes of the Black family.

“Wouldn’t you rather live with James?” he asks, cautiously. Sirius scoffs.

“What, and deal with another six years of him mooning over Lily? It’d be even worse now that you’ve managed to get her to look at him like he’s a human, not a Flobberworm, so cheers for that.” Remus laughs and knocks his knee against Sirius’s shoulder. “So, seriously, would you want to look into it? Provided you don’t manage to get a girl to fall for you instead of your dashing flatmate, obviously.”

There is a long pause. “Not really my thing,” Remus says, hesitantly.

“Oh right, yeah, what with your ‘furry little problem’, must be tough to get a girl to settle for longer than a month.” Sirius replies. “Actually, that ‘little problem’ might be the best defence from commitment ever, do you mind if I borrow it as a line?”

“Well, actually…” Remus is interrupted as two elephants, disguised as Peter Pettigrew and James Potter, come galumphing into the room.

“Have you two kissed and made up yet?” James calls to Remus’s bed.

Sirius makes some alarming smacking noises right by Remus’s ear. He’s pretty sure he’s been deafened. “Now we have, but you two might want to clear off for the night.” Sirius gives Remus’s leg a squeeze and leaps out to rugby tackle an unsuspecting James, who appears to have succeeded in getting stuck in his own trousers. “You and trousers just don’t get along, do you mate?” Sirius asks, shaking his head disapprovingly.

And just like that, Sirius has gone back to his boisterous, extroverted self – and Remus isn’t sure when he’ll have the opportunity to talk to him properly again.

He lies on top of his bed, still in his uniform, book lying open on his stomach. As the noise of Sirius chasing James around the dormitory gets louder and louder, Remus sighs. 

*

The weekend arrives and brings with it the trip to Hogsmede – and Remus’s last chance to get Sirius anything more than a party he won’t remember for his birthday. He heads off to Hogsmede with Sirius and Peter – James and Lily are hanging back so they can’t be followed by Sirius – but once they get into the village, Peter and Sirius are chatting about Quidditch and it isn’t hard for Remus to slip away unnoticed. He’s wandering around the streets of Hogsmede, desperately looking for inspiration that isn’t from Zonko’s or Honeydukes when he spots a shop he’d never noticed before. It’s tiny, and looks like it’s about to fall down any minute, but he just knows that he’ll find something in here. He steps in, taking in the name on the peeling sign hanging over the door – _Sherston and Son’s Antiquarian Emporium_ – and nods politely to the wizard behind the counter.

As far as he can see, all the shop stocks is odds and ends: an incomplete tea set, a basket of costume jewellery, a very outdated map. _I’ll just take a cursory look around_ , he thinks to himself, _then head to Zonko’s and get him the standard Marauder’s Mix._ He’s turning to walk past the shop owner to feign interest in the bric-a-brac under the counter, nod a thanks and head out when he spots a gold pocket watch. Against his better judgement, Remus steps closer to the counter and takes a good look at it. It’s a beautiful piece, clearly an item treasured by its previous owner.

“Used to belong to a Muggle fellow,” the shopkeeper says, noticing what Remus is looking at. “Want a closer look?” _No_ , Remus thinks, but for some reason he’s nodding and the man has unlocked the cabinet and is gently withdrawing the pocket watch from under the glass counter. He places it on top of the counter and carefully removes it from its velvet-lined box. “Original box,” he comments, and Remus nods. He flicks the watch open to display its face. “As I say, it used to be Muggle but then it was left to the bloke’s godson in his will, and his godson turned out to be a wizard. Quite a talented one from the looks of things, if he managed to change a normal Muggle pocket watch into this. It’s got the usual features of a magical watch – star chart, tracks the phases of the moon, obviously tells the time – but here’s where it gets interesting.” He taps the watch face two times with his wand and the display changes. “You know them big clocks they have in wizarding homes where you can see how the family’s doing?” Remus nods. He’s certain he’s seen one in James’s house, crowded with names of cousins and second cousins and second cousins twice-removed. “You can do that with this one – and there’s no limit to how many people it can keep track of. All you need is their full name and date of birth, you tap it twice to get it onto this feature, then tap it to change the person you’re looking at, then twice again to go back to the normal face. You can put an alarm on people too, so if they get to “mortal peril” or whatever you fancy calling it, you’ll know straight away.” Remus’s eyes have grown wide. It’s perfect. He knows instinctively that Sirius would absolutely love it. Something Muggle that’s been repurposed but still subtle, beautifully made and obviously someone’s prized possession – plus it’s practical, which Remus appreciates, is a traditional present and will last an awful lot longer than a massive party in the common room.

“How much is it?” he asks, warily.

The shopkeeper looks at Remus, at the watch, and then back to Remus again. “Fifteen Galleons.” Remus feels his throat tighten. Fifteen Galleons. It’s a lot.

“If you don’t see me in half an hour just assume that I don’t want it,” he says, and rushes out of the shop before he just hands over the money. Fifteen Galleons. That’s 250 Sickles. Remus feels dizzy. Unhelpfully, his brain provides him with the thought that that’s also 7,250 Knuts. He thinks he needs to sit down.

Instead of giving into histrionics unheard of since Lucius Malfoy left the school and threw an almighty strop because he only got “Exceeds Expectations” in his Defence Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T., Remus goes into Zonko’s. He listlessly rifles through the products on display, all the while his mind, the one thing he thought he could rely on, cheerfully informs him that fifteen Galleons would get Sirius a year’s supply of Dungbombs and Nose-Biting Teacups. Honeydukes is similarly ruined for him as he works out that fifteen Galleons’ worth of chocolate and sweets would probably make Sirius very, very ill – but would only last him about a week.

He checks his own watch – which is neither gold nor engraved in a beautiful Art Deco fashion – and sighs heavily.

“Bugger.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius and Peter are lounging in the common room, sprawled over sofas and armchairs they’ve unceremoniously booted second years out of and dragged towards the fireplace, which is crackling merrily. Peter’s face is pink from the cold, Sirius’s hair windswept, his grey eyes sparkling. Remus returns from the dormitory with his half-finished book. The remaining Gryffindors who’d gone into the village come traipsing in, discarding gloves, scarves and coats as they walk further into the warmth of the common room. James and Lily still haven’t returned – a fact noticed but not remarked upon by the three. Sirius and Peter start up a game of Wizard’s Chess and Remus settles down with his book, taking a moment to smell the pages.

“You are a surprisingly depraved individual, Moony,” Sirius comments as his knight smashes one of Peter’s pawns.

“It’s old book smell and it’s a hundred times better than whatever that cologne you bathe in every day smells like,” Remus replies. Sirius looks offended.

“That is ambergris, Lupin. It’s a precious commodity.”

“It stinks to high hell and makes my eyes water.” Sirius shakes his head.

“It’s manly.”

“It’s _crystallised whale vomit_.”

“Yeah.   _Manly_ crystallised whale vomit.” Remus shakes his head and goes back to his book. “Where are Evans and Potter? Surely they should be back by now?”

“Maybe it’s been a very good date,” Remus comments, doing a fair impression of Sirius’s trademark eyebrow-waggle. “Speak of the devil…”

James and Lily walk in through the portrait hole, looking like they’re trying _not_ to look like they’ve just been holding hands.

“Alright, Evans? Did Prongs show you a good time? Or was it all over too fast?” Sirius asks, feigning innocence.

“Great, thanks,” she replies calmly, unwinding her scarf and unbuttoning her coat.

“That woman is unflappable,” Remus comments, impressed.

“Challenge accepted,” Sirius mutters.

“I heard that,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads up to the girls’ dormitory.

Sirius manages to wait all of three seconds after she’s out of earshot before hissing, “ _Well?_ ”

James shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. “Yeah, it was fine,” he answers. “Nice.” Sirius is looking at him, his expression clearly unconvinced. “It was amazing,” James gabbles, flinging his coat off. “We went for a walk around the village and then popped into the Three Broomsticks and I bought her a drink, and we just sat there for _ages_ talking. And I managed not to say anything stupid, like I was only staring at her legs because one of mine’s wooden, or that I collect buckets of ears.”

“Ah, the old ‘bucket of ears’ line,” Sirius says, fondly. “Word of warning: that does actually work on a small handful of the more disturbing Slytherins.” The three stare at him, unsure whether Sirius is speaking from experience or just talking out of his arse. Remus is, worryingly, inclined to believe the former, rather than the latter. James shakes his head and continues.

“Anyway, we were sat next to each other in one of the booths and then she sort of… slipped her hand into mine and I panicked and started apologising because I thought my hand had suddenly developed a mind of its own and had reached for hers, and she laughed and had to reassure me that she was the one who reached for my hand. And then… well, then there was a lot of hand-holding when we walked back through the village, and when we went into Honeydukes, and when I looked at my watch and realised we were almost half an hour late, and then some slightly more complicated hand-holding when we were running back to school.”

“But did you kiss her?” Sirius wants to know.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, Padfoot,” James admonishes. “But I’m not a lady so yeah, we did. Just a peck on the steps outside the portrait, but then we sort of… didn’t stop doing it.”

“For half an hour, I presume?” Remus says, innocently. James sighs happily.

“Yeah…” The two exchange glances. Remus stifles a laugh and Sirius actually giggles. Remus thinks they might be hysterical.

“So, hand-holding _and_ kissing,” Remus continues, trying to regain a modicum of dignity.

“And in front of the Fat Lady too,” Sirius says, knowingly. “That woman’s quite the voyeur. Bet she loved it, the saucy minx.” Remus bites his lip to stop himself from laughing.

 “You two are just jealous.” James’s position as only child reveals itself most wonderfully when he’s sulking.

“You’ve hit the nail on the head there, Prongs. I’m horrifically jealous that I can’t _hold hands_ with anyone. But – wait a moment, what’s this!” Sirius grabs Remus’s hand and holds it up triumphantly. Remus feels himself grow scarlet as the people around them in the common room turn to look at them. His desire to let go is almost as strong as his desire to carry on. “We’re… we’re holding hands! Hold the front page everyone, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are holding hands! Who knows,” he says, lowering their hands and adopting a tone usually reserved for gossiping neighbours, “we might even hug in public.” He gasps in faux-shock and throws his free hand over his forehead dramatically. “But now, Mr. Lupin, you will have to marry me, or I shall be known as a ruined woman! I will be quite destroyed! Soiled goods!”

“Why are you talking like Scarlett O’Hara?” Remus asks under his breath. Sirius shrugs.

“Oh, you two can just fuck off,” James says, the tips of his ears going pink, and storms upstairs to the dormitory to collect a textbook. Sirius and Remus’s shoulders are shaking with the effort of not laughing out loud.

“We really shouldn’t be so cruel,” Remus says, offering Sirius a square of chocolate, which Sirius gratefully accepts.

“Of course we should,” Sirius says, cramming the chocolate into his mouth. “Otherwise he’ll start thinking that we actually have his best interests at heart,” he adds, thickly. “Speaking of which, how is the planning for my birthday going?”

“And how is that related to Prongs’s apparent success in charming Lily?” Remus asks, bemused. “It would be going a lot faster if some of us would bugger off so we _can_ plan it.” Sirius raises his hands in submission.

“Okay, okay, point taken Moody. I’ll absent myself – those delightful House Elves downstairs haven’t been graced with my presence for quite a while. Gentlemen.” Sirius nods to Peter and Remus and sweeps Lily a deep bow as she comes down from the girls’ dormitory, book in hand. “Milady.” Lily gives him a bemused look and shakes her head.

“Is he always so utterly insane?” she asks, taking the armchair Sirius has left free and opening her book.

“Only on days ending in ‘y’,” Remus replies, sighing heavily. “What’s that you’re reading?”

“ _The Woman in White_ ,” Lily says, holding the cover up for Remus to see. “Have you read it?” He nods.

“Over the summer, it’s really good, you’ll enjoy it.” Lily smiles.

“I have utmost faith in you, and now I’ll have someone to blame if I hate it.” She laughs and tucks her feet up in the chair and settles in. Remus recognises the pose of the Determined Reader. Come hell or high water – or James Potter, for that matter - Lily won’t be distracted from reading until she’s ready to stop.

“Right, have you two stopped taking the piss out of me for – oh, hi, Lily.” James has come back down with his unfinished Transfiguration essay. Lily looks up from her book at James. “Erm, sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, when I read I sort of tune the rest of the world out,” she says, smiling.

“You sound like Remus,” James says, taking the spot next to Peter on the sofa. “You two would be very good together,” he adds, trying to keep his tone light. To Remus’s immense relief, Lily laughs at this.

“Oh no, James, I don’t think I’d be right for Remus at all,” she says, her green eyes wicked and flashing Remus a very knowing look. He can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable and clears his throat.

“Seeing as it’s Sirius’s birthday next weekend, shouldn’t we start making some more plans?” he suggests.

“Oh, thank god,” James says, withdrawing The List. “If you hadn’t suggested it I would’ve had to actually work.” He moves the chess set from the table between the sofa and armchairs. “Er,” he says, turning to Lily.

“Don’t worry, I am reading, I am oblivious to everything around me, including the Head Boy planning a party that will doubtlessly include illicitly-obtained alcohol.” She turns a page in her book, not even looking up. James looks at her for a moment as if all the angels in Heaven had conspired to create her. Remus rolls his eyes and coughs.

“The party, Prongs?”

“Wha- oh, yes. Of course. So. We’ve got the alcohol sorted, thanks Peter,” Peter nods and takes an Every-Flavour Bean from the open box on the coffee table. “I’m going to pop down to the kitchens later and have a word with the House Elves. Once they know who the party’s for, they’ll be falling over themselves to make the food. Do we have any preferences?”

“Nothing that stains,” Lily answers from behind her book. “I refuse to spend the next day on my knees.” Instinctively, Remus turns to hit Sirius to stop him from making an inappropriate comment before he remembers that Sirius isn’t there.

“I reckon food that doesn’t need plates, and nothing too heavy if this is happening after dinner. Cheese and pineapple sticks, Twiglets, that sort of thing,” Remus suggests. James nods and dutifully makes a note of it on his list.

“What about a cake?”

“Chocolate,” Remus, Peter and Lily answer in unison. The three boys turn to Lily in astonishment. “What, do you think I hadn’t noticed the alarming speed at which you four eat chocolate? You’d think you were a group of hormonal girls at the rate you get through it.”

“Chocolate cake it is, then,” James says, writing it down. “How many layers?”

“Four,” Lily adds, having put her book aside. “With chocolate buttercream between them. One for each of the Marauders.” James beams at her, and Lily smiles back, green eyes soft. Remus’s gaze darts between them and he feels the ache of not knowing what that must be like. He hastily breaks off a square of chocolate to distract himself and moves on to the next consideration.

“Who are we inviting?” James produces another, unfeasibly long roll of parchment with a list of names from his pocket.

“That… James, that’s everyone in the school!” Remus exclaims. James shrugs.

“Well, yeah. I thought it would probably be easier to decide who _wouldn’t_ be coming than who would,” he argues. Remus has to admit – begrudgingly – that this is actually quite sensible. “It’s divided into the years, and then within each year the Houses. I’m fairly certain we can rule out all of the Slytherins-“

“Not all of them,” Lily says, her voice soft but slightly dangerous.

“I don’t really think it’s the best idea to invite Severus Snape, do you?” James asks. “Or… Would you want him to-“

“Not him,” Lily says, spitting out _him_ with a venom previously reserved only for conversations with James. “I meant Regulus.” James and Remus exchange wary glances. Anything related to Sirius and Regulus is by its very nature a delicate matter.

“The thing is, Lily,” Remus starts, trying to find the best way of handling one of the few aspects of Sirius’s life that he keeps quiet, “Sirius and Regulus haven’t exactly been on the best terms since Sirius was Sorted into Gryffindor and Regulus into Slytherin, with all the stereotypes those two Houses entail.”

“Kind of like you and your sister, only with mental pureblood ideas and an alarming fondness for the Dark Arts,” James adds. He bites his lip, judging Lily’s response to this comparison. To his relief, it appears to have been successful.

“Okay, so no student under sixth year and no Slytherins _at all_ ,” Lily concludes, grabbing James’s quill and drawing a line through the relevant columns. “Now. Where are we having it, here?”

“Well, yeah,” James says. “Unless you know of a room that can suddenly be conjured up and remain invisible to the staff,” he teases.

“Alright, smartarse, just because we’ve had our first date doesn’t mean you get to take the mickey out of me,” Lily says, green eyes flashing.

“Sorry, _first_ date? Does that mean there might be another?” James is pushing his luck, Remus thinks, but Lily doesn’t even bat an eyelid.

“Anyway,” she continues. “The one thing we have to be careful about is that if we’re getting the sixth and seventh years from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw in here, we’ve got to watch out for security. I _know_ they’re our allies everywhere other than on the Quidditch pitch and in exams, but that doesn’t mean we should just throw caution to the wind.”

“Already taken care of,” Remus replies, smiling. “I’ve had words with the Fat Lady and she’s agreed that for that night only the password’s going to be changed. Changes at 10pm on the Saturday night and back again at 3am on the Sunday morning. That way if people from other houses leave at 3am they can’t come back in, and I imagine that the majority would be ready to leave not long after it switches back to the usual password.”

“Which will be…?”

“Decided on the Friday night and those invited will be given it on Saturday morning,” Remus finishes. “I’ve told the other prefects what’s going on just so they’re prepared. The majority are fine with it – particularly as they’ve been invited – but there were a few who were less than pleased.” Remus turns to James. “I had to tell the Slytherin prefects, I mean, they’ll know about it anyway. Sorry, Prongs.”

James pauses for thought. “No, mate, you had to tell them, you’d only be asking for trouble if you didn’t. Even if you invited them along it’s not as if they’d go or let any of their lot go. The only thing I’m worried about is them snitching to Dumbledore,” James says, frowning.

“Er, I’ve sort of… Taken care of that,” Lily adds, hesitantly. “Sorry to have done this behind your back – when you were at Quidditch practice I scheduled a meeting with Dumbledore, James. So he knew what you were planning. He’s prepared to look the other way just as long as the party stops on Sunday morning and nobody ends up in any serious harm.”

“No, that’s perfect. Now, if the Slytherins do decide to take it to him then he’s already been told so he’s essentially given us his blessing. That’s ideal, thanks Lily,” James says, relieved.

“What about the other Gryffindors who aren’t invited?” Peter pipes up. “The first to fifth years? If we’re not letting the younger years from other Houses come, it’s not fair to let the younger kids from ours come.” The four sit in contemplation for a while.

“Well, McGonagall already knows about it, if the party’s starting at 10, it’s not unreasonable for us to get them to go up to their dormitories then – I highly doubt that the others will be turning up at 10 on the dot so if there are a few who are more reluctant we’ve probably got about an hour to convince them to bugger off,” James muses.

“They won’t like it,” Remus warns.

“Yeah, but what choice do we have?” James says, sighing. “They’re going to know what we’re doing, it’s not like we can pretend we’re not having a massive party. I just don’t know what else we can do to get them out of here in time for the party to start.”

“I could speak to the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain,” Peter adds. “We were working on our Charms essay last week and he mentioned something about wanting to organise a friendly for the younger students. That’d knacker the younger lot out and would give you time to get the stuff sorted without them constantly wandering in and getting in the way.”

“It’s a good idea, Pete, but it’s a bit late in the game as we’ve only got a week. Cheers though – I’ll remember it for the next party,” James says, patting Peter on the shoulder. “So what can we do to get the toerags out for the evening?”

“Why not just go for the more direct approach: I’m older than you, I’m Head Boy and you’ll do as I say or I’ll make the lot of you do a detention with Filch.” Lily suggests, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I think we’ve just got to tell them that they have to go up earlier because if they don’t, we’ll get in trouble and then we definitely won’t be able to do the much bigger and better end-of-year Gryffindor party. Four out of the five year groups have already been to at least one of them, and they’ll all know how huge those parties are. Telling them that coming to this one could mean that we can’t have the one at the end of the year might be enough of a deterrent,” she reasons. “I can put an Imperturbable Charm around the common room so they won’t be able to hear us. That way it won’t disturb them. Granted, they’ll still know we’re having a party that they’re not invited to but at least the noise of us having fun without them won’t be keeping them awake.”  Lily shrugs. “Just my thoughts.”

“No, definitely makes sense,” James agrees, and makes a note of it. “Let the prefects of the other Houses decide how they’re going to handle their own students, it’s not really our concern.”

“Well,” Lily says, “technically it is _our_ concern as we’re Head Boy and Girl – but speaking from a selfish Gryffindor perspective, fuck ‘em.” Remus, James and Peter stare at her in shock.

“I –er, what?” James says weakly.

“Lily said ‘fuck’,” Peter says, horrified.

“Bugger,” Remus says, equal parts astonished and impressed


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, only 3 years after the last chapter went up!  
> Thanks for the patience guys :) I hope you enjoy it.

The party is, as Remus knew it would be, a massive success. Someone – he doesn’t want to know who – broke into Filch’s office and “liberated” the record player he thinks nobody knows about. James, who clearly had a panic about his lack of a “proper present” for the birthday boy, managed to get a copy of Bob Marley’s new record. As the party dies down and the common room slowly empties, he stumbles over to the record player and clumsily puts the record on. Sirius is sat with an unknown Ravenclaw girl on his lap, eyes closed, nodding along to the music, tapping the beat on her thigh. She’s giggling and squirming, and hops off his lap and takes him by the hand onto the makeshift dancefloor, stepping over the prone form of Peter. Remus, sat with a half-drunk glass of wine, wishes he could look away from the sight of them dancing together, her lithe body rocking against his, his hands around her waist, his dark head nuzzling against her neck. He wishes he couldn’t hear her laughing and see her turning around to face Sirius with her arms around his neck, drawing him in close, his hands on her bum, the two of them rolling into each other on the downbeat of the song. He wishes he couldn’t hear her soft laughter and the low rumbles of Sirius whispering in her ear. Pressure on the sofa tells him that someone’s joined him.

“Does he know?” Lily asks softly, her gaze on Sirius and the girl.

Remus shakes his head. “None of them do.” Lily looks away from Sirius and towards Remus.

“But does _he_ know?” Her eyes hold Remus’s and he finds he has to break the gaze and starts worrying at the cuticle on his left thumb. “If you don’t tell him, he never will.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Remus finally manages to say. He’s made his thumb bleed.

“So explain it to him.” Lily is still looking at Remus, her green eyes kind. She looks back towards the sight of Sirius and the girl and pulls a slight face at the display.

Remus takes a long sip of wine. “He always talks about the girls he gets, and obviously we see him flirting in the common room with them, but it’s not the same as actually having proof in front of you.” He knocks back the dregs of his wine with a grimace. Lily gives him a sympathetic half-smile and pats the side of Remus’s leg.

“She won’t stay the night,” she says by way of reassurance. “He won’t ask her to and if she suggests it, he’ll send her home.” She kisses his cheek, and saunters over to James, who smiles broadly and wraps his arms around her.

The party’s more or less over by now, the majority of the guests having already returned to their Houses and dormitories. The Ravenclaw girl is the only non-Marauder left in the common room, with the exception of Lily. She looks prepared to stay longer, but Sirius gently steers her towards the portrait hole and kisses her hand, the perfect imitation of a gentleman. When she finally leaves, he collapses onto the sofa with his head in Remus’s lap. Out of habit, Remus brushes the hair back off of Sirius’s forehead and combs his fingers through the ends.

“Best party ever, thanks boys – and the Lovely Lily, of course,” he says, raising an imaginary toast to Lily, who returns it and rests her head on James’s shoulder. “The important question is – actually there are two – firstly, is Pete still alive?” A grunt from the floor answers in the affirmative. “Secondly, is it showing my age if I am totally knackered and want to go to bed?”

“That’s the alcohol talking,” James yawns. He checks his watch. “That and it being four in the morning. How on earth did we manage to have a party until four in the morning without McGonagall coming in?” Lily shifts guiltily.

“I may have bribed her with shortbread after we mentioned that you were throwing a little party,” she admits. James laughs.

“Lily, I think I love you,” he says, and kisses the top of her head. She flushes slightly and mouths “shut up” to Remus who raises an eyebrow in her direction.

“Well, my fine friends, I am going to Bedfordshire,” Sirius announces, getting up and wobbling slightly. “Do we move Peter, or leave him to sleep like this and get a crick in his neck as a reminder not to be the first person to pass out at a party?” Peter groans and manages to summon up the energy to flick Sirius the V.

“’M staying here,” he says in a thick voice. “But could some’n gemme bucket jus’n case?” Sirius claps Peter on the shoulder.

“I should probably go to bed, too,” Remus says, scratching his jaw and yawning. He gets up and bids his goodnights, and follows Sirius to the dormitory. James calls out something but he can’t hear him through the rushing in his ears. His stomach is in knots and he’s fairly certain he can feel his heart pounding in his mouth. He knows he has to do it now or he’ll never do it. He’s had just enough to drink to think that this is a sort-of-okay idea. The timing’s never been better.

He steps into the dormitory and finds Sirius lying across his own bed. “Padfoot,” he complains half-heartedly. Sirius groans and rolls over.

“Your bed’s more comfortable than mine,” he says, kicking his shoes off and squirming in the bed to face the right way. “Do the house elves like you better?”

“Probably,” Remus replies. He unlaces his shoes and puts them under his bed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that since it’s your birthday, you’re going to sleep here and I have to take your bed.” Sirius shrugs.

“Whatever you want, Moony.” Remus hesitates, then crawls into the bed and lies alongside Sirius. He’s breaking so many of his rules – the main being “never sleep in your day clothes” and the second being, “never share a bed with someone you have complicated feelings about”, but your best friend only turns eighteen once.

He’s just about to nod off when he suddenly remembers. “I was going to say before the party but then it got busy – I got you something for your birthday. Do you want it now, or in the morning?”

Sirius is lying very still and with his eyes closed. “Is it chocolate?”

“You’ll have to see.” Spurred on by the Mystery Present, Sirius opens his eyes and slowly pushes himself up so he’s leaning against the headboard. Remus reaches over to his trunk, and retrieves the box which he’s wrapped in old copies of the Daily Prophet. Sirius takes it from him and tears the wrapping off, looking at the wooden box.

“This really isn’t chocolate, is it?” he asks, quietly. Remus shakes his head. Carefully, Sirius opens the box and gasps as he sees the pocket watch, nestled amongst the red velvet lining. “Remus, what – what is it?”

“It’s a pocket watch. It used to belong to a Muggle but his godson was left it in his will and he was a wizard so he changed it to be a wizard’s watch. Here, let me show you.” Remus takes it from Sirius’s hand and opens it, exposing the watch face. “See, here’s the star chart, the phases of the moon, the clock – and here’s the really clever bit.” He taps the watch face twice with his wand. “I already put some people in here, but it’s really easy to do…” Sirius is still staring, totally speechless. “What?”

“I – I can’t believe this, it’s amazing,” he says, breathlessly. “Where did you find it?”

“There’s a little antiques shop in Hogsmede,” Remus replies, gently placing the watch back into its box. “I was about ready to leave when I saw it and when the man told me it used to be Muggle but was ‘repurposed’… Well, I thought of that bloody motorbike and -” He doesn’t finish his sentence because Sirius has launched himself at him and hugs him tighter than he’s ever hugged anyone before.

“It’s perfect, Moony, it really is,” Sirius says into Remus’s jumper-clad shoulder. Remus’s nose is buried in Sirius’s hair and he feels overwhelmed by how much of his best friend there is around him. _Now_ , he thinks,  _I have to tell him now **.**_

“Sirius, there’s something I have to tell you,” he says, voice shaking. Sirius looks at him, puzzled.

“What is it?” Remus bites his lip anxiously, frown lines appearing between his eyebrows. “Remus, seriously. What is it?” Sirius asks, a bit of worry seeping into his voice.

“I – okay, firstly you have to know that I’ve known this for a number of years but I’ve just been waiting for the right time to tell you, and it just… oh, bugger it. Sirius, I… I think I’m gay. Well actually, no, that’s not true, I _know_ I’m gay.”

Sirius sits back. There’s a very heavy silence between them for a few moments, just long enough for Remus to start thinking that maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. “Can I be honest?” Sirius says at last. Remus nods wildly. Sirius pauses as if he’s considering his words very carefully. “It was more of a shock when you told me you were a werewolf.” He smiles and Remus is so relieved that he makes a sound that’s a cross between a laugh, a cry and a hiccough. “Mate, gay, straight, werewolf – you’re still Remus to me.” The relief at these five words hits Remus like a Cheering Charm and he hugs Sirius fiercely, tears pricking his eyelids.

“Thank you,” Remus says hoarsely. Sirius squeezes him. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever manage to find something to tell you about myself that will shock you.”

“Well, you could tell me you fancy me,” Sirius jokes, hugging Remus tighter and then letting go.

Remus has to try really hard to be unmoved by this off-hand comment. Feeling like the colour has drained from his face, he lets out a weak “ha” as he leans back so he’s resting against his headboard. Sirius sighs heavily and lies on his side, one long, tanned arm under his head, the other dangling over the edge of the bed. A second enormous sigh and a following snore inform Remus that he’s asleep. Hesitantly, Remus lies down, holding his body rigid so that it won’t accidentally do precisely what Remus wants it to and curve around Sirius’s sleeping form. He shakes his head sharply as if to banish the thought and turns over so he’s facing away from Sirius – and towards Sirius’s empty bed. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think of people who look like they fit perfectly together dancing slowly to reggae music.

 *

The next morning, almost everyone in seventh year and a healthy proportion of the sixth year are in various degrees of hungover. It’s gone eleven o’clock before Sirius or Remus surface – Peter having spent the night on the common room floor and James apparently having spent the night somewhere with Lily, it’s only the two of them in the dormitory. Some well-meaning house elf obviously thought they’d appreciate some gentle morning light through the windows and opened the curtains.

“Gnagh,” Sirius moans weakly and buries his head into Remus’s pillow. The noise startles Remus out of his hazy dream and he wakes to discover that his treacherous body obviously decided at some point in the night to tangle his legs around Sirius’s and – yes, oh _bugger_ – drape an arm over Sirius’s back. He hastily retrieves his arm as Sirius rolls over, his arm flung over his forehead. He groans again. “Jesus fuck Moony,” he rasps in a voice like forty cigarettes a day for half his life, “can you do something about that bloody curtain?”

Remus extricates his limbs from his friend’s and gets to his feet. He opens the hangings to his bed, letting in more light, and stumbles over to the curtains and pulls them shut. “Bless you,” Sirius says, and struggles to sit up against the headboard. “That was one fucking party, my friend.” Remus is caught in the uncomfortable position of Not Knowing What To Do. What he _wants_ to do is to get changed and go downstairs to claim either the remnants of breakfast or a very early lunch, but he can tell that Sirius wants to talk about the events of last night. This in itself poses its own set of problems – does he get back into his bed? Is that weird now that they’re both awake and (in his case, anyway) sober? Is sharing a bed with your best friend one of those things that can be hand-waved when both parties are drunk and exhausted, but is weird when you’re not drunk and it’s the next morning? He settles for dithering between the window and his bed.

“Moony, fucking hell, stop thinking so much, it’s hurting my head,” Sirius croaks, wincing slightly at the volume of his voice. Impulsively Remus chooses his bed. He squeezes alongside Sirius.

“God, it’s freezing out there,” he says through a muzzy head and chattering teeth.

“Get back under the covers then, you mentalist,” Sirius says. “Christ, your feet are cold.” Remus jerks them back, but Sirius shakes his head. “No, come on, it’s fine, sharing body heat and everything. Come on, don’t be such a pansy, it’s just common sense.”

“What do you know about common sense?” Remus mutters, but moves his feet towards Sirius’s sock-clad ones all the same. “You drank eighteen shots of Firewhiskey.” Sirius groans and rubs his face.

“That explains a lot. Did I also dance on the table?” Remus nods. Sirius smiles. “Well, it’s tradition by now. It’s not a party if I don’t end up on the table.”

“Yes, but I think attempting to give poor Cooper a lapdance was a bridge too far.” Sirius’s face falls slightly.

“Oh, Christ, I’d forgotten about that. Now I really am ashamed of myself. If I’m going to offer men lapdances I’d have thought I’d pick someone a bit more deserving,” he says.

“You did,” Remus says, “but I wasn’t interested.” He picks at his cuticles. “You must’ve been really drunk - you were quite persistent. It carried on for quite some time before I managed to convince you not to.”

“Yes, I do actually remember being a bit disappointed by that,” Sirius says. Remus’s heart stops.

“Sirius, are you still drunk?” Remus finally manages.

“I wish,” Sirius says, rubbing his temple. “It would at least stop me from feeling like gnomes are bouncing on my brain like it’s a trampoline.” He forces himself to sit up and rubs his hands through his hair.

“Ugh, don’t do that. You’re becoming more dog-like with every day,” Remus says.

“Woof. Here,” Sirius says, holding out a strand of his hair, “hair of the dog?” Remus groans. “Piss off Lupin, I’m hilarious.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are and you’re even less funny hungover,” Remus mutters.

“I’m finding it hard to be funny when something very sharp is digging into Places It Should Probably Not Be. What the hell is that? Did I eat chocolate in my sleep again?” Sirius rootles around under the covers and retrieves the watchbox. “Oh, right, this!” Sirius opens the box again and takes the pocket watch out to look at it again. “It really is amazing, Remus.” He buries down under the covers again, examining the watch’s features

A sudden thought flashes through Remus’s brain, very unwelcome and very unpleasant: what if Sirius has forgotten what he told him? The thought makes him feel very very sick – and he doesn’t think that’s anything to do with the 10 shots of Firewhiskey _he_ consumed.

“Sirius?”

“Moony?”

“Do you – um, do you remember what I told you last night?”

“That you wish you were as amazing as me and above all else you wish you had my hair?”

“I’m serious.”

“No, I’m Sirius.” Remus sighs.

“Sirius, **please**.”

“Okay, okay.” Sirius sits up, puts the watch back in its box, and turns towards Remus. “Do I remember you coming out to me? Of course I do. It’s a huge thing to share with someone, and it’s not something you share with someone you think might forget ten seconds later. I feel very special to have been the first person to be told – even though I’d had my suspicions – but I do appreciate it.” He smiles. “And, as this is the first morning of my eighteenth year –“

“Nineteenth year.”

“Oh for the love of God Moony, I’m trying to half-come out to you here, and you’re _correcting_ me?”

“You’re… you’re coming out to me?”

Sirius hesitates. “Well, kind of. More of a… ‘I’m not straight’, if that makes any sense.”

Remus stares, uncomprehending. “I mean, it’s just that you’re always going off with girls, flirting with girls, groping girls _right in front of me -_ uh, in front of _everyone_ , I mean, on the dance floor…”

Sirius pales. “Oh shit, did I?”

“To Bob Marley, no less,” Remus adds.

There is a very long and highly unpleasant silence. Remus starts picking at his cuticle again.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “Look. You, James, Peter, fuck, everyone in this school only ever **sees** me with girls for the same reason that you never discuss what you’re like – both things – with everyone: it’s nobody’s business but mine, and the people I trust enough to tell. Not that I never trusted you enough to tell you, honestly, mate, it’s just that -“ Sirius sighs heavily and kneads his aching head. “It’s just that I’ve barely got my head around it myself, and I didn’t exactly want to say ‘hey, guess what, I’m gay!’ when I don’t even know if that’s completely true, or only partially true or what. You know?” Remus nods. “And then last night, you said you were and I thought -” Sirius pauses and rubs his face. “There are other people in this school who know. About me, I mean. Guys I’ve messed around with at parties and things. And while some of them have been fine with it being something they can’t talk about and something that wouldn’t happen again, most have been angry that it’s something I’m keeping back from everyone when it’s just a part of who I am. But you – fuck, Remus – you’re one of my best friends and if anyone knows what it’s like to have to keep something about themselves hidden it’s you. And now it turns out there’s two things you’ve had to hide.”

“Three, actually,” Remus says quietly, his head spinning. _Just do it. Just do it quickly and then it’ll be over and done with **.**_

Sirius frowns, trying to understand. “What?”

“There are three things I’ve been hiding.” He wishes desperately that they were having this conversation sober and in an empty common room, rather than hungover and in the same bed, but sometimes, as Remus has discovered, life is a total bitch and you just have to play with the hand you’re dealt. “The um, the third thing is actually why I told **you** , not anyone else – and why I told you last night.” Remus swallows and refuses to meet Sirius’s eyes. “The third thing is that it really kills me, seeing you getting off with random Ravenclaws whose names you probably don’t know, because it’s proof of how many people there are here who want you and it makes me, um, it’s that – oh god – I – I think I might be in love with you.”

The silence that follows is utterly unbearable. But he’s got this far and now there’s nothing else to do but to march forwards.

“Last night,” Remus continues, forcing himself to look up at Sirius and away from his ruined cuticle, “you said that the only thing you thought might shock you was if I told you I fancied you. And – and now here I am, and I’ve said it and you’re looking at me like – actually, why are you looking at me like that?” Sirius has, for some utterly unknown reason, a smile on his face that Remus hasn’t ever seen before. “For Merlin’s sake, Sirius, what?”

“I just never expected that you of all people would see me like that,” Sirius says honestly, still smiling. “I mean, not because I didn’t think you were gay – I had a notion but never enquired because it’s none of my business – but because I didn’t think that _you_ would ever like _me_ , you know, like that.” Remus stares at him, dumbstruck. “And I am sorry about, you know, copping off with random Ravenclaws in front of you because, well… Maybe I sort of see you _that way_ too, and maybe drunken kissing of Ravenclaws was a – I don’t know, a –"

“How on earth could you see me like that?” Remus interrupts, shocked. _He’s taking the piss_ , his brain tells him. It’s immediately a convincing argument, and he can’t think of anything else to explain Sirius’s sudden confession. “Are you making fun of me?”

Sirius looks aghast. “No! No, fucking hell – no! Remus, are you seriously wondering why I could maybe like you?”

“Well, yes! You’re, you know, _you_! You’re Sirius Black, tanned, with dark hair that always looks good, and you’re on the Quidditch team and you’re the prankster and you manage to wrap McGonagall and the majority of the staff around your little finger, and you’re brave and everyone likes you –“ he ignores the slight smile that pulls at the corner of Sirius’s mouth “ What on earth would you see in me? I’m… I’m constantly nagging you to write your essays and Not To Pull Another Stupid Prank On Severus Snape, I correct your grammar all the time, I’ve got rubbish clothes, I’m generally pretty useless at finding presents, and –“

Remus’s long list of Reasons Why Nobody, Particularly Not Sirius Black, Should Fancy Him is abruptly cut off by Sirius’s mouth on his. It’s not perfect– Sirius still tastes of last night’s booze and their noses bump together and Remus is acutely aware that he hasn’t washed yet. But it’s a hundred, a thousand, a _million_ times more than what Remus ever dared to dream might happen.

“I forgot to say thanks last night,” Sirius says. His hand is still at the back of Remus’s neck.

“Well,” Remus says, breathlessly, “you’re welcome.” The two sit in stunned silence for a second, and then Remus leans forward and kisses Sirius, taking them both aback. For once in his life, Remus has decided to stop thinking so much, because Sirius is making little noises that send shivers down Remus’s spine, and he's kissing him back fervently as if he’s been longing for this just as much, if not more, as Remus has. They’re both far too busy enjoying themselves to think or even care about what’ll happen once they’ve finished kissing.

Remus decides then and there to stop thinking more often.


End file.
